One Day to Live
by DayDreamer95
Summary: " . . . I'm dying," she whispers.  With those simple words, my world shatters. Rated T for bad language. Please review!
1. Young and Crazy

Hello everyone! This is my latest story: One Day to Live. Welcome! I've brought back the lead-in to set the mood of the chapter, as you will see. This fic takes place in modern-day Japan, and Ammy and friends are just average high schoolers. There's going to be a whole lotta drama coming up, so prepare yourself. And for those of you familiar with my other story, Return of the Dark Lord . . . Kiyoko's back! You know I just had to; I love her too much to let her go out like that! If you haven't read that one, I suggest you head on over to my profile and read it! It's pretty good, if I do say so myself! Okay, I've went on enough. Enjoy!_**

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Chapter 1: Young and Crazy

"_I'm not crazy. Everyone else is, and I'm the only sane person."_

**Amaterasu**

Here I am. Just another day in my plain, average, mundane life. I look at myself in the mirror. The silver glass reveals to me a girl with bone-white hair and pale, pale skin. I sigh. Why did I have to be born an albino? Why couldn't I have been normal? The only things dark about me are my eyes—those are as dark as they can get, the blackest of black. Well, I'd better get ready for school . . .

_At school . . ._

"HEY!"

"Hm?" I look around for the source of the voice.

"Here comes the little bundle of energy," comments one of my friends. Of course, that "bundle of energy" couldn't possibly be anyone else but . . .

"Snowflake!"

Yep. Enter Kiyoko, my lively little freshman friend. She's taken to calling me "Snowflake" due to my white hair and pale skin. It's not the first time, though. I've had plenty of nicknames over the years. Snowy . . . Snowball . . . I've even been called "Chalky" once or twice.

"Excuse me! Coming through! Woo-hoo!" she shouts as she pounces her way through the crowd separating us.

"Kiyoko, what are you up to now?" I ask her, genuinely curious. I never know what's going through the girl's mind.

"Nothing. Whoops!" The leaning tower of books she had been carting around topples over, sending countless papers flying. "Oh, there goes my math homework . . . Hyah! Hup! Grr-RAH!" She makes all kinds of strange sounds as she leaps up trying to grab the airborne papers.

One of the guys notices what happened and comes over to try and help. What the . . . ? Oh, no. It's Issun, my old friend, also known as the school playboy. "Hey, there," he says. "Need some help?" Double oh, no. He has his eyes on Kiyoko, and there's that mischievous, perverted glint in those eyes of his. You see, he is infamous around here for flirting with girls . . . and I will _not_ let him anywhere near _my_ friend.

"Um . . . S-Sure," Kiyoko stammers, blushing. _Really?_ She _likes_ him? I pity the poor girl. How did this happen, anyway? Those two have been friends since forever, so what's with the change of heart? I'll tell you what: the magical wonder that is puberty. And hormones.

Issun continues to flirt shamelessly with Kiyoko. I won't even honor his words by repeating them. But enough is enough, I say. I grab one of the books lying around and start whacking him with it.

"You—stop—messing—with—my—friend!" I say between whacks.

"Ow! Okay, okay!" he gives in, the little wimp. I stop beating him for the moment. "Damn, you're crazy, woman."

"What was that?" I raise the book above my head once more.

"Nothing, nothing!" He throws up his hands in surrender.

"That's what I thought."

He sulks away. Kiyoko is safe for the time being. But for some reason, she's not too happy about that. "What did you do that for?" she complains. "I . . . I really like him, you know."

"I know. But you need to get over him. He's no good for you."

"But—"

"No buts! You're coming with me. Let's go." I grab her wrist and start dragging her away, since she's still shooting wistful looks in Issun's direction.

"Ooh! Where we going?" she asks, distracted. So simple-minded . . . Why can't we all be like that?

"You and me are having a sleepover tonight."

"Yay! How fun!"

o~*~o

At my house, Kiyoko pores over my collection of DVDs. "Hmm . . . Which one are we gonna watch, Snowflake?"

"None of 'em," I say. "The DVD player's busted. No movies for us."

"Really? Let me see it!"

"Go right ahead. It's over there." I gesture in the direction of the DVD player.

"Alright! Let's see here . . ." She begins to play around with the player, pointlessly trying to fix it. To my surprise, the DVD player reacts, whirring and beeping. "Hey! I think I got it!" Another tweak, and with another whir, the DVD player door pops open. Unfortunately, Kiyoko's head was in the way—seeing as she dumbly poked her head in front of it to look at it more closely—and the door bops her on the head, then retreats back inside the DVD player. "OW! Hey, it opened! I'll try it again!" After fiddling with it some more, the door whirs open again—only Kiyoko once again places her head directly in front of it, and once again it hits her on the head and disappears back into the DVD player. "Ow! Aww! Again! I know I can get this! I just know it!"

I roll my eyes. How stubborn can she get? "Hey, Kiyoko, I think it would work better if you moved your head."

"Why would I want to do that?" _WHIR! Bonk!_ "Oww! One more time! I'll get it for sure this time!"

Cue another eye-roll. She's not the sharpest tool in the shed, I can tell you that.

"Snowflake?"

"Yes?"

" . . . I have a headache," she says, the most innocent look on her face. She is looking up at me through her lashes with those big eyes, two sparkling amethysts that light up the entire room; her long, slender fingers gently stroking her temples; a somewhat pained look ever so slightly creasing her delicate features. _She is so beautiful_, I think. _Any guy'd be lucky to have her as a girlfriend. Any guy but Issun, that is._ I finger my colorless hair, and then look at Kiyoko's lustrous raven-black hair, glimmering in the dim light. _Why can't I be like that? She has everything I could ever want . . ._

But still I can't help but roll my eyes yet again. Of course she'd have a headache after getting hit in the head multiple times. I feel a smile spread across my lips as I say, "Of course you do. Let's just go to bed, okay?"

She nods, then winces. "Yeah, that sounds good . . . Got any aspirin?"

As we're leaving the room . . .

_WHIR!_ The DVD player door pops open on its own accord.

Kiyoko whirls around, forgetting her headache for the moment. "AHA!" she cries.

_WHIR!_ Back inside it goes.

"OH, COME _ON_!"

I just shake my head at her. "You're crazy, Kiyoko," I say.

She gives me a quizzical look. "Huh? I'm not crazy. Everyone else is, and I'm the only sane person."

o~*~o

_The next day . . . _

Kiyoko's late today. She left earlier this morning, and I haven't seen her since. Where could she be? I hope she hasn't gotten sick or anything.

_HONK, HONK!_

I turn around and see Kiyoko's car—well, her mom's car anyways. Out hops Kiyoko, but right away I can see that something's amiss. Her bright, luminous eyes are dull today, darkened by some kind of negative emotion. An almost imperceptible frown tugs at her lips. She's not happy, like she usually is.

I run to her, curiosity and worry pulling me to her. "What's wrong, Kiyoko?" I ask.

"Hm?" She turns to look at me. "Oh, it's nothing," she says. She's lying. She won't look me in the eyes, and her tone is unconvincing.

"C'mon, you can tell me, can't you?"

Kiyoko smiles at me. Her smile is genuine, but her eyes are still dark with that emotion I can't quite identify. "Life is too short to worry. So I'm not going to."

So there _is_ something wrong. "Worry about what? Please tell me. _I'm_ going to start worrying if you don't."

I hear her take a deep breath and release it slowly in a weary sigh. Uh-oh. She's going to drop a bombshell on me, I just know it. I start going through the possibilities. She's grounded. She's on drugs. Oh, God. Don't tell me she's pregnant.

"I . . ." Another deep breath. "I . . . I'm . . . I'm dying," she whispers.

With those simple words, my world shatters.

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See? What'd I tell ya? Drama! But . . . well . . . *has just read an awesomely written fanfic* I'm feeling kinda lame now. My writing style is nothing compared to theirs . . . What do you think? Would you please put an end to this girl's worries and tell me what you think in a review? That would really help . . . Constructive criticism welcome - I can't become better without your help! Thank you!


	2. Through My Eyes

Yikes, the story's moving quicker than I expected it to O.O Oh, well, it's probably better this way. I wouldn't want to bore you guys. And just so you know, I'm not one to cuss. I don't like cussing in the least. But considering that this story takes place in a high school setting, and many high schoolers tend to cuss like sailors, I pretty much had no choice. Not if I wanted to make it (somewhat) realistic... And another thing! Kiyoko is _not_ dumb. She just has an unfortunate combination of simplemindedness and stubborness. Yeah, winning combination, is it not? *sarcasm* Yeah, she's quite simpleminded, really, but she is usually not girly. She only acts that way around Issun. As I said, simpleminded. Anyway, I hope you enjoy the story! This one's nice and long!_**

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Chapter 2: Through My Eyes

" _If only you could see things the way I do . . ."_

I stand there, frozen. Shock runs through my body like an electric current, paralyzing me. I try to think of something to say to her, some words of comfort or something, but I get nothing. What do you say to someone who tells you they're dying? " . . . What?" is what comes out of my mouth. It is the only response I can possibly come up with.

"I . . . I went to the doctor today because I haven't been feeling well," Kiyoko begins. "And I—"

"Wait, wait. You haven't been feeling well?" I know I cut her off, but I really don't care at the moment. I'm more concerned about her well being than anything else.

"Y . . . Yeah." She looks away in what most likely is shame at not telling me earlier. "You know, like headaches and stuff."

How could I have not known about this? Well, if she hadn't been feeling that good, she certainly didn't show it. Every day when I saw her, she'd always have that happy smile on her face. She never even gave the slightest hint of being sick. "And what did the doctor say?" I ask. I'm afraid of the answer, but I have to know.

Kiyoko's gaze flickers up to meet mine only to become fixated on the ground once more. "He . . . He said that I . . . have a terminal illness."

A terminal illness. In other words, an illness that will end up killing her no matter what the doctors do.

The numbing effect of the shock fades away, and the reality of what she's telling me hits me harder than a train going at full speed. She's _dying_. I don't even know how much longer she might have to live. _Not her_, I think. _Not the sweet, fun, silly Kiyoko_. Before I know it, tears flood my eyes and spill down my face. I pull her into a tight hug. I never want to let go, because I'm afraid that if I do, I'll lose her forever.

Kiyoko pulls away, holding me at arm's length so she can look me in the eyes. I see that her violet eyes are clear, free of the emotion that had darkened them before. And she's smiling. How can she possibly smile at what must be such dark times? "How do you do it?" I ask her.

She tilts her head in a curious way, the way she tends to do when she's confused about something. She answers my question with another. "How do I do what?"

"How . . . How do you smile like that even when you know you're going to die? How do you stay so cheerful?"

"Well . . . I just don't think about the future. I mean, why bother worrying about something that hasn't happened yet? I like to live in the moment, enjoy every day like it's my . . . last . . ." Her voice catches, but she quickly recovers as she always does. "As long as I do that—live in the present, enjoy every moment—I never have to worry. And . . . I'm grateful. I'm grateful to have made it this far. I'm grateful for the fact that I'm still breathing right now. Every morning when I wake up now, I'm grateful that I was given another day to live."

Wow. I never knew she could be so . . . deep. That must take a lot of strength, more strength than any of us probably have, to be able to think that way. To be able to smile in the face of death. If only the rest of us could be half as strong as she is . . .

"Anyway," she continues, "the doctor said I'll be fine for the time being as long as I don't get too stressed out or push myself. And like I said before, life is too short to worry. So I'm not going to."

She's right. Life _is_ too short. Much, much too short . . .

o~*~o

When I see Kiyoko the next day, she's just going about business as if nothing had changed. Some freshman punk is tagging along behind her, carrying her books for her. She probably charmed him into it without even realizing she did. She has that kind of effect on people, especially guys. She's just so sweet and pleasant to be around—not to mention the fact that she is stunningly beautiful—all the freshman boys fall head over heels for her.

"Hey, Kiyoko," I say to her. Like her, I try not to think about the events of yesterday. "Who's your little friend?" I eye him suspiciously. Some guys would not hesitate to take advantage of Kiyoko's naiveté for their own perverted desires. He shrinks away from me, slightly intimidated. Good. He should be. After all, I could do some serious damage to him, seeing as I am a junior and he is just a puny freshman.

"Oh, his name's Inaru. He offered to carry my books for me. I just couldn't turn him down."

Of course. She can't say "no" to anybody. That's part of her problem. But this Inaru seems pretty wimpy. I don't think he could do anything to her even if he wanted to. So I let it slide. For now.

Kiyoko's walking alongside me when she has a sudden collision with an open locker door. "Ow!" she says, holding her head. Sometimes I have to wonder if she got the way she is from one too many hits in the head. Honestly, the girl's a klutz. She's always running into walls or tripping over something. Or getting herself hit in the head. The only time she's not clumsy is when she's dancing. Now, that's a sight to see. When she dances, all that clumsiness vanishes, and she's more graceful than a swan. Oh, and when she's practicing with the kendo club after school. She may not look it, but she can fight with the best of them. She's one of the top kendo fighters in our school.

"Oh! Did I get ya? I'm sorry!" says the person behind the locker that struck Kiyoko. I look around the locker door, and grimace. It's Issun, the annoying pest. Why _him_, of all people? When Kiyoko notices who it is, she freezes, her face immediately turning red. She's got it bad.

"N-no! Th-That's okay," she stammers. "I-I'm fine, really."

"You sure? 'Cause I could make it up to you . . ." That mischievous glint in his eyes appears once more. "Say, you could come over to my house tonight, if you want."

_Please say no_, I silently will Kiyoko. _Say no, just this once!_

"U . . . Um . . . S-sure," Kiyoko says in spite of my willing her to say different.

Shit. Who knows what he's going to do to her? I can only hope that the two of them won't do anything too reckless . . . Oh, who the hell am I kidding? This is Issun we're talking about. The night's probably going to end with Kiyoko losing her virginity. And didn't she say something earlier about not getting too stressed out? For her, this has to be quite stressful. I guess things should be fine, if Issun doesn't go and break her heart or something. Issun. This all rides on him. I pull him aside.

"Listen, you little bug," I hiss into his ear. "Kiyoko's heart is in your hands. Whether you treasure it or crush it is up to you. But I warn you: it'll be better for all of us if you don't break her heart. You hear me? _Don't_ hurt her, or you will pay."

"Fine, whatever," he grumbles back. Anger flares up in me at his nonchalant attitude, and I tighten my grip on his arm. "Ow! I won't, I won't! Let go of me! That hurts, dammit!" I tighten my grip again. "OW! Okay, okay! I promise, alright?" I release him. That's what I wanted to hear.

"And don't you forget it," I say. Yes, everything's going to be all right, but only as long as he doesn't forget . . .

o~*~o

**Kiyoko**

Oh. My. God. I can't believe it. Issun asked me to come over to his house! I wonder, though, if he's implying something more . . . like inviting me into his bed. Oh, no, no, no, no! I blush just at the thought of it! I'm sure he only thinks of me as a friend . . . right? Oh, I don't know anymore. But all the same, I'm super-excited right now. Hopefully, it won't be too much strain on me . . . Wait, what am I talking about? I can't wait!

The rest of the day passes by in a dreamy daze. I can't even remember anything but the fact that Issun invited me to his house tonight. At least I know where he lives. But what am I going to wear? I rummage through my closet and tear my room apart looking for something acceptable. Should I go casual? Or dress myself up? I finally settle on jeans and one of my favorite tops—a purple, sparkly, tight-fitting number that plays up my petite size. I walk to his house, considering how I don't have a license and I'd rather not be a bother to my parents.

I walk up the steps and knock politely on the door. Issun appears at the door.

"Hey, Kiki," he says. "How's it going?"

"U-um . . . Uh . . . I-I . . ." I'm tongue-tied right now. Why does he have to be so cute?

"Come on in." I can't. My feet won't listen to me. I'm practically glued to the porch. "What's the matter? I'm not gonna bite ya or anything!" He's laughing. Laughing at me. I feel my face get even hotter. But at last, I force my feet to move, one in front of the other, until I'm inside. "Well, this is my humble home. What do ya think?"

I look around the house. It's not too shabby, actually. "V-Very nice," I say. Oh, why can't I say anything around him without stuttering? "Wh . . . Where are your parents?"

"Out of town."

Oh, my. We're _alone_ in this house? All alone, and together . . . That's nearly enough to make me squeal out loud. I stand there awkwardly, not sure of what to do.

"Why don't you come on up to my room?" he says.

Did he just say what I think he just said? Oh, no. No, no, no. But again, my feet seem to have a mind of their own, walking me up the stairs and to his room.

Issun's room is a disaster area. It is so cluttered with various junk and dirty clothes, you can't even see the actual floor. Couldn't he have at least made an effort to clean it just a little?

Issun clears the junk off of what I can now see is a DVD player. A functional one, hopefully. He holds up a choice of movies to watch. "Which one do ya wanna watch, Kiki?" he asks. I point to the one I want to watch. "Cool. Let's get started."

We sit together on his bed during the movie. There wasn't much choice—all that junk in his room has taken up any available sitting place on the floor. Even though we aren't even touching, the close proximity of his body is enough to make me blush.

After the movie's over, Issun does something unexpected—though it's something I should have seen coming. He took off his shirt for no apparent reason, and it's all I can do not to faint at the sight of his fit body. Then off comes his pants. I'm feeling lightheaded now. He reaches over and tugs at my shirt. Omigod. Now he's trying to take _my_ clothes off. I push him away. I'm not ready for _that_ quite yet.

"What's wrong, Kiki?" he asks.

"I . . . I-I'm just n-not ready!"

" . . . Okay. But I'll let you in on a little secret. Come here."

I do nothing. I'm still too shy to even be _this_ close to him. So he leans in closer, and my racing heart beats even faster. I can feel his warm breath on my ear as he whispers into it, "I love you, Kiki."

Did I hear him right? He _loves_ me? Oh, that's the one thing I dreamed of him saying to me. Only this isn't a dream. This is real. Now that I know that he feels the same way for me as I do for him, all my nervousness, all those butterflies in my stomach vanish just like that. He loves me. And I love him.

I fall back onto the bed, and Issun gets on top of me. Only this time I don't push him away. He pulls at my top, and I allow him to. My shirt slides up over my head and is flung to the far side of the room. "I love you too, Issun," I say. My jeans slide off now.

Issun pulls me in even closer and kisses me. His lips are soft and warm against mine, and I relish the feeling. My very first kiss, and it is amazing. He breaks away for a moment, but before I barely even have the chance to breathe, he kisses me again. And again. Then I kiss him back. His body presses against mine, and I find myself pressing back.

As blissful as this is, a small part of me protests. _It's too soon_, it whispers to me. _Stop it now, before you go too far with it_. But the rest of me argues against that small voice, saying, _Just this once is fine. And I may never have the chance to do this ever again_. That part wins over. _It is fine_, I tell myself. _Just for tonight . . ._

o~*~o

I wake up the next morning to find myself on the floor. I must have fallen out of the bed in the middle of the night. Great. I'm clumsy even in my sleep. I think about last night. It all feels like a dream, but when I see Issun still asleep in the same bed I slept in made it real to me. I did it with him. I lost my virginity to him. But it was _so_ worth it. It just felt so wonderful, I couldn't get enough. I look at the digital clock on the nightstand. 8:08 pm. Wait, what? Today's a school day! We're going to be late for school!

"Issun! Issun, wake up!" I say, nudging him. He mumbles something like "Five more minutes" and turns over. I nudge him harder. He still ignores me. I shove him even harder, accidentally pushing him right off the bed. "Oopsies . . .Wake up, sleepyhead!"

That did the trick. He wakes up, but he's not too happy about the way I went about waking him up. "What the hell did you do that for, Kiki?" he complains.

"Today's a school day. And it's past 8:00."

"Huh?" Then the information registers in his mind. He jumps out of bed. "Aw, damn! Better get movin'!"

After rushing to get ready and skipping breakfast, we make it to school just in the nick of time.

"Hey, guys," Snowflake says to us when she sees us.

"Hey, Snowflake," I say to her.

"So, uh . . . How did last night go?"

"Last night? Oh, it was simply amazing."

"Well? Tell me more."

"I never kiss and tell."

Snowflake's eyes widen. "You kissed him?"

"Well . . ." I deliberate on whether or not to tell her the whole story. Hmm . . . She'll probably find out sooner or later anyways—news spreads fast around here—so I might as well tell her. "I did it with him."

"You _what_? Kiyoko, you didn't! Don't joke about that kind of thing!"

"I . . . I'm not joking."

"You really did it with him? You're no longer a virgin?"

" . . . Yeah."

Snowflake is quiet for a moment. Then she snaps. "Kiyoko, you damn fool! You should never have said yes!" She takes a moment to calm herself, and when she speaks again, her tone is gentle and concerned. "You're not pregnant or anything, are you?"

"No. I'm not. And I don't care what you say—I love him, and he loves me. Isn't that what people in love do?"

Snowflake sighs. She thinks I made a mistake. But I say I didn't. "Yes, but he doesn't love you! He's just using you!" Oh, Snowflake. If only you could see things the way I do . . . She seems to think Issun is some sort of criminal. A player that will do nothing but break my heart. But she doesn't know him like I do. I've known him just about my whole life. She doesn't know how kind he actually is. He is so sweet and kind—he just doesn't like to show it. And he is loyal. He would never cheat on me or leave me like Snowflake says he will. He's just not that kind of guy. Not in my eyes, anyway. We both love each other, and that's all that matters. No matter what happens or what people say, we will always love each other . . . Forever and ever . . .

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So, how am I doing with the drama thing so far? This is my first time doing anything like this, so please let me know what you think! I mean it, guys, please review! I still won't hesitate to go into fanfiction hiatus if you don't! Yeah, that's right. Review, or no fanfiction for you!


	3. How Long is Forever?

. . . Okay, guys. This is my last freebie and my last warning. After this chapter, if you don't review, I will not - I repeat, will _not_ - write any more fanfiction. Don't make me do this, please. I'd hate it as much as you would. So, for all our sakes, don't forget to review.**_

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**_Chapter 3: How Long is Forever?_**

_"'Forever' is a strange and wonderful word . . . It can last a lifetime, or it can pass by in the blink of an eye . . ."_

**Amaterasu**

I can see them now. They're very subtle, but I can see them now that I'm looking for them. The signs of Kiyoko's illness, the one that will supposedly kill her.

First, there's a slight but ever-present cough that she tries to stifle. It's not really obvious, but she often appears to be in pain, perhaps from constant headaches. And has her skin always been so white?

I don't mean to, but I find myself watching her very closely when I can. But hey, I'm just worried about her. Issun still has no idea—and he's too dumb to notice any of the signs. But Waka—my fair-haired, blue-eyed, and did I mention senior boyfriend—does sense that something is amiss. I notice that he, too, sometimes hovers nervously around her, which is only natural considering that he is also a close friend of hers. I'm not quite sure if he knows or not, but he has a . . . sixth sense about these kinds of things.

In spite of her suffering, she shows up at school every single day. She does not let her illness rule her life. Again and again, I find myself in awe at her seemingly limitless strength. Can nothing stop her? Can nothing take that cheerful smile off her face?

As I'm trying to make my way to my next class, I come across a roadblock—a huge mob of teenagers that seem intent on cutting off all traffic through this hall. Taking a closer look to try and find out what the commotion is about, I find poor, hapless Kiyoko trapped in the middle of it all.

"Come on! Out of my way! Ack!" Kiyoko yelps as she tries to escape. It seems futile to even try. Whenever she does, the crowd pulls her right back in. "Out of the way, or I'll jump over all of you!" Yeah, I bet she could clear the whole lot of them in one leap. But there's just one problem.

"Kiyoko! I advise you don't do that!" I shout over the loud buzz of the crowd.

"Huh? Why not?"

"Watch your skirt!" If she did jump, she'd end up flashing half of the crowd because our school uniforms, us being girls, require us to wear skirts. Kiyoko, who is a tomboy at heart, often forgets that one must be more ladylike when wearing a skirt, which is why I have to remind her from time to time so she won't end up flashing everyone in the school.

"Oh! Curse this stupid school uniform! Why do we have to wear these anyways? Snowflake, help me, please! I'm going to suffocate in here!"

If she can't get out, I'll break her out. "Move out of her way, or I'll bash all your skulls in," I warn the people surrounding her. They don't budge an inch. Luckily, I have my literature book with me. My very, _very_ heavy literature book. I raise it above my head. "I'm damn serious! Get the hell out, or you'll get the lit book!" Needless to say, the crowd parted immediately.

Kiyoko, grateful for my little rescue, ran up to me and hugged me. "Thank you, thank you! I thought I was never going to get out of there!"

"No prob. All in a day's work. What was that all about anyways?"

"Uh . . . Well . . . Let's just say that just about everyone in the school knows what happened with me and Issun now. I swear, news spread way too fast around here."

So that's it. I bet everyone was as shocked as I was to hear it, too. No one ever expected Kiyoko, the poster child of innocence and purity, to lose her virginity like this. And she's just a freshman!

"So . . ." I start. "How are things going with you two?" If I know Issun like I think I do, he probably just tossed her aside right after.

"Absolutely wonderful. You know, we're boyfriend and girlfriend now." She sighs a dreamy sigh, the sigh of someone giddy with love. "And he is so sweet. He gives me flowers and everything. He's a real gentleman, you know? He's the greatest!"

Yeah, yeah. When you're in love, it messes with your judgment of character.

"Okay," I say dismissively. "Whatever you say." I know if I say anything bad about him, she'll just jump down my throat again, saying that he's not the guy I think he is. I say let her live her little fantasy. And when she gets her heart broken, I'll be here to pick up the pieces. I know for a fact that it's just a matter of time before that happens . . .

o~*~o

**Kiyoko**

I'm in an empty classroom now, waiting for Issun. Earlier today, he passed me a note saying for me to meet him here. My heart's racing with excitement. Is it a surprise? Oh, I love surprises, especially good ones! Maybe he'll make out with me in here. I know I've done it with him and all, but just the thought of making out with him is still enough to make me blush.

Issun walks in, and my heart leaps with both joy and anticipation. What did he call me here for? I can't stand the suspense!

"Kiyoko . . ." he starts out, and I feel myself slump in disappointment already. I'm not "Kiki" anymore—and he's called me that since preschool . . . That can't mean anything good. "It's over. We're done."

What? He's breaking up with me? No. No, this can't be right. Why would he do that? We've been so happy together . . . Wait, something's not right here. His pale green eyes have a distant look about them, and there's a strange scent in the air. It's smoky, yet sickeningly sweet. Then it clicks.

Issun's on drugs. That's the stench of weed, if I recall. Not that I've ever smoked any, but I've been around enough weed users to learn the smell of it.

So he doesn't mean it. He's not himself right now, and he doesn't have a clue what he's saying. That's the only explanation. "Issun . . . I know you don't mean it. And you know that I love you. So, please, snap out of it! I just—"

"Shut up! I don't give a damn about all that romance shit. Just go away. It's over. We're through. Get that through your thick head already!"

"N-No! I won't leave! We've been through so much together . . . I've given everything to you. I gave you my time, my love . . . I've even given you my virginity." I feel heat rush to my face at having to mention it, but not in embarrassment—in anger. "Does that mean nothing to you? Are you going to just throw all that away?"

He comes closer to me, and rather abruptly pulls me into an embrace. But somehow, this one seems a lot rougher. He's practically squeezing the life out of me, handling me like a rag doll as he says, "You know I like ya, babe." He starts stroking me in places I suddenly don't want him to touch.

"Don't touch me," I warn him, pushing him away. "I'll fight you if I have to. I don't want to, but I will if I have to." Much to my dismay, my trembling voice took off the edge I intended the threat to have.

"Fine, then." He shoves me to the ground. I guess there's no chance of making up now. "Be that way. See if I care!" His voice is rising in anger.

"Don't do this!" I hear my own voice rising in desperation. "I don't want to lose you!"

He laughs bitterly. "What do you know about losing anything? You're lucky; ya got everything in the world goin' for ya! How can you possibly understand what it means to lose something? Here's the answer: you don't!"

"No, _you _don't understand!" I snap back. "_You're _the lucky one! At least you have a future! You have your whole life ahead of you! And I . . . I don't. Not anymore . . ."

I reach out and gently take his hand, making sure his foggy gaze is looking into mine. "I know you don't mean any of it. If you could just open your eyes . . . ! Please . . . I love you." I won't let him go. I won't let him leave me. Not this easily.

"Get your hands off me, bitch!" I flinch at his crude language.

Then the next thing I know, I'm on the ground again, a sharp sting in my cheek. He slapped me. He _slapped_ me. How could he?

No. I won't believe this. None of this is real. This is . . . This is all a nightmare. It's just a bad dream. I'll wake up at any given moment. It's just a dream . . .

Then why does it hurt so much?

. . . I'm not waking up. This . . . This isn't a dream. The pain I'm feeling is too real. This is reality, and Issun really is breaking up with me. Was it all a lie? His confession of love? All the dates we've been on? All the kisses we shared? Did none of that mean anything to him?

Something inside me snaps. Suddenly I'm really, really angry. I slap him, payback for him slapping me. "You jerk! You never meant any of it, did you? You never loved me!" Then, quickly as it came, the anger passes. I never can stay angry for long. "What am I to you? Am I just some toy to be played with? Is that all I am to you?"

" . . . Yeah," he says. That one word has the impact of a freight train on me. I feel crushed under the pressure of it. "And I'm done playing with you. So go away."

Is he serious? I'd like to believe that he isn't. "Issun . . . Look me in the eyes. Look me straight in the eyes, and tell me that you don't want me. Tell me to leave your life, and I will. Just say the word." My heart aches when I say this, but that's what I will do. If he really wants me to leave, then I will.

When his eyes move to meet mine once more, I see something in them that I didn't see before. There's now a startling clarity about them, in spite of the cloud of drugs still residing in them, and pure, raw hate burns in them. They're telling me something for him: he's dead serious. He means every word of it when he says, "I don't want you. I never did. Now get the fuck out of my life."

The only thing I can hear in the silence that follows is the sound of my heart breaking.

I'm running now. I have to get away from him. I have to forget about him. So I keep running.

I thought we'd be together forever. But, in a way, I guess we were. "Forever" is a strange and wonderful word. It can last a lifetime, or it can pass by in the blink of an eye . . .

. . . But he's not even the person I thought he was. The Issun I knew wouldn't do any of these things. He wouldn't say such rude things to me, wouldn't hit me, and most certainly would never leave me. He's changed. He's someone completely different now. I . . . I don't even know him anymore.

Argh! What am I doing? Oh, it's useless. I can never forget about him, but I can still run away from the pain. So that's what I do. And I'll keep running. I'll run until there's no more breath in my body. Until I die. That way, I won't have to fight to live anymore. That way, I won't have to deal with the pain anymore.

I can hear my racing heart pounding in my ears and air rushing in and out of my lungs. How?

How can my heart still be beating when it's so broken? How can I still be breathing and living when I'm hurting so much, I just might split in half?

Run. Keep running. I'll run forever, if that's what it takes to escape from this painful thing called life . . .

o~*~o

**Amaterasu**

I'm talking to Waka when he suddenly loses interest in me, his eyes fixated on something else. I follow his gaze and see nothing. But, wait . . . Is that Kiyoko?

Yes, it is she. And she's speeding down the hall, running as fast as she can. Something must be wrong. She wouldn't be running like this, risking her health, for no reason.

Before she has the chance to pass me by, I grab her wrist, bringing her to a halt. She struggles to break out of my grasp, but I can tell she's weak and exhausted. Just how far did she run? "Kiyoko?" I say tentatively. "What's wrong?"

She responds with a soft cough. Only, it didn't quite exactly sound like a cough. It sounded more like a sob.

"Kiyoko?" I force her to turn around so I can see her face. And sure enough, there are tears streaming down her face. But all the same, this is a new sight to me. I have never seen her cry before. She's just always been so happy . . .

"That . . . lying, two-faced . . . son of a bitch!" Kiyoko cries out before completely breaking down, sobbing quietly.

"Oh, Kiyoko . . ." I pull her into a comforting hug. "It's okay." I say that, but it is definitely _not_ okay. I know exactly what's wrong. And it has to do with the only person that had the power to break her heart, the only one who could make her cry like this. Issun. But what's done is done. I can't do anything about it now.

Then, before I even realize what's happening, Kiyoko's sobs are abruptly cut off with a strangled cry. "Kiyoko?" I say, holding her at arm's length to look at her. Her once bright eyes are now dull and lifeless. She slips out of my hands and falls to the floor. She's collapsed.

I gently lift her up and cradle her in my arms. That's when I notice that she's burning up with a fever. Oh, God. Her illness. Is she going to die, right here in my arms? I hear the clamoring of panicked students.

"Oh, my God! Someone get help!"

"Call the nurse!"

"Kiyoko, please don't die!" I then realize it's me who says this.

Someone gets the nurse, and Kiyoko is taken to the nurse's office. I don't know what good that'll do, but at least she can get some rest. Nonetheless, it's better to be safe than sorry, so I come along.

At the infirmary, the nurse takes Kiyoko's temperature as a precaution. She then, of course, looks at the thermometer for the result, but something else is wrong, it seems. Her face goes totally white, a terrified expression frozen on her face.

"What is it?" I ask, rising to my feet immediately.

"H-Her . . . Kiyoko's temperature . . . is 110."

* * *

I remind you once more to please review. Come on, people, reviews are the only thing that keeps me going! I mean, I do love writing, but I don't have any idea of how I'm doing if you don't share your opinion! If you'd rather not have your opinion published, you could send it to me in a PM if that's what you want! Just please REVIEW! That's all I want. And I'm still serious about the hiatus. Don't forget that.


	4. Forgiveness

Sorry for being a bit late with this one! I kinda had the computer taken away from me . . . meh. But anyways, enjoy this next chapter! Please read and review! Especially review! And I'm still serious about that hiatus! Oh, and if you're the kind of person who likes to listen to music while reading fanfics, I suggest this song: "If I Die Young" by the Band Perry. It fits this fanfic perfectly!_**

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**__****_

Chapter 4: Forgiveness

"_What I've done is unforgivable . . . But can you forgive me anyway?"_

"110 degrees? Y-You're not serious, are you?" I ask the nurse, finding it hard to believe.

"Th-That's what the thermometer says . . ." The nurse stammers, taking another look at said thermometer.

110 degrees . . . That's past the critical point. Kiyoko needs medical attention immediately.

The nurse seems to read my mind, and goes to call 911.

I stay with Kiyoko, holding her hand tightly. "Everything's going to be okay, Kiyoko . . . We're going to get you help," I assure her, though I doubt she can hear me. "Just hang in there . . ."

The ambulance comes faster than I thought possible, and men in white uniforms carry Kiyoko out on a stretcher. She is rushed to the hospital, the sirens and lights on the ambulance announcing its presence to the world.

She's going to be okay. The doctors will help her. She'll get better. She will survive this . . . Right?

. . . This didn't have to happen. It's Issun's fault that it did happen. That heartless bastard crushed Kiyoko's heart, and caused her to get upset enough to collapse.

I turn around, and the bastard in question is standing right there in front of me. How foolish of him. He should have known that I'd be pissed off at him. He should have run when he had the chance.

"Why did you do it?" I demand, grabbing on to the collar of his shirt to make sure he doesn't escape.

"I don't know what you're talkin' about!" Issun says. Is he really that dense? Does he not even know what he has done?

"Why did you break Kiyoko's heart?" I give him a good shake, hopefully to shake some sense into him. "I told you not to! I told you not to break her heart, and what do you do? You _shatter_ it! And you knew she wasn't feeling well!" How could he do that to her knowing what would happen?

"Sh-She wasn't . . . feeling well?" He seems truly surprised. Wait . . . Kiyoko never told him about her illness. And, of course, he's too dense to be able to see the signs of it. So . . . he never knew. But that still doesn't change what he did.

"For a while now, Kiyoko hasn't been feeling well. And, well . . . She's dying, Issun. This illness of hers is going to kill her." No point in beating around the bush. He, at least, needs to know. Even if I don't like him that much, he's still Kiyoko's friend, and he has a right to know.

"She's . . . dying?" Issun falls silent for a rare moment, perhaps feeling a twinge of regret. "So . . . When I . . . then she . . . What have I done?" He runs away from me and out of the school.

"Wait!" I call after him. "Where are you going?"

But he doesn't answer. He just keeps on running.

Fine. Let him be that way. I don't care if he cuts school or not. But still I have to wonder why in the world he would run off like that . . .

o~*~o

**Issun**

This is all wrong. I never meant for any of this to happen. I didn't mean to put Kiki's life at risk.

I find myself standing in a hospital. I don't even remember running here. All I could think about was Kiki. She can't die. Not yet.

How did all this happen? And how come no one ever told me that she was dying? Didn't anyone want to at least let me know she wasn't feeling well?

. . . I guess not. I mean, look at me. I'm nothing but a rotten, selfish—but good-looking—pervert. But still . . . I had no clue. Kiki never even looked sick—she was always as happy as ever, as far as I could tell. Why didn't she tell me herself?

Suddenly, I'm in the room where Kiki is. Yeah, there she is, lying in that hospital bed, probably close to death. All because of me.

Why? Why did I do it? Well . . . If I had to come up with a reason . . . I don't know. I just don't know. I just knew that I hated her. I hated that she was always so happy, that she had everything in the world going for her, while I had nothing. I lost everything I had in that fire. My parents . . . everything. It wasn't fair. How could she go on all cheerful and carefree, not a worry in the world, when I have absolutely nothing to be happy about?

I wanted to break her. I wanted to see that goofy smile wiped from her face. I wanted to make her as miserable as I felt.

Now I see that was all a mistake. I should have known that she was sick. In fact, I think she said something that hinted at it . . .

_"No, _you_ don't understand!"_ she had said to me. I remember how I snapped at her for claiming to know what it means to lose something when she had everything. _"_You're _the lucky one!_ _At least you have a future! You have your whole life ahead of you! And I . . . I don't. Not anymore . . ."_

How could I have not seen it? Even though I have nothing, I still have one thing: my future. And she doesn't even have that. Here I am, healthy and alive, while Kiki lies here in this hospital bed, fighting just to keep on living. Damn, I'm so stupid!

I wanted to break her, but I never wanted to kill her. But now, I can't take back what I've done. She . . . She could _die_ because of what I did.

But, wait . . . Why should I care if she dies? It serves her right! She was always rubbing her happiness in everyone's face, walking around with that stupid smile on her face.

. . . No. She's still my friend. I never wanted her to die. But now she could die because of what I've done. What have I done?

What have I done?

I take her lifeless hand in mine. It's cold as ice.

What have I done?

She's barely breathing; it looks like she might stop any minute.

What have I done?

I feel something wet on my face; I realize I'm crying. How pathetic.

Why do I care so much?

Why do I feel like I'm breaking apart? Why does the sight of her lifeless face, the thought that smile of hers might possibly be gone forever, hurt me so much?

Could it be . . . that I really am in love with her?

. . . No. But standing here, knowing now what I have and she doesn't, I'm falling for her now. Who knows? Maybe I've been in love with her all along. I just know that I love her now.

But it's too late now. Kiki's dying, and I might never have the chance to tell her how I feel now. Not that it matters now. She'd probably still be pissed at me. There's just no way she'd ever forgive me . . .

o~*~o

**Kiyoko**

I'm lost in a black sea of nothingness. I hear nothing, see nothing, feel nothing. Am I dead? Is this what death is like?

If it is, then I'm perfectly content with death. I feel strangely at peace here, like nothing can possibly hurt me now. In this world of darkness, my broken heart is healed. Never again do I have to think about that jerk. I can just stay here and leave behind both the physical and emotional pain. I can just stay here, blissfully numb to the pain of life . . .

What is that? A single light in this otherwise dark world, shining brightly. After spending so much time in this darkness—or has it only been a moment?—that light is beautiful to me.

Like a moth to a flame, I find myself drawn to the enchanting light. It's so warm, so inviting . . . It calls to me . . . It makes me feel so good . . . I want it. I want to be in the light, to let it fill me up with feelings of serenity and peace. I'm so close . . . I can almost touch it . . .

"Wake up!"

The voice slices through the muted darkness like a sharp knife, severing my fixation on the light. But whose voice is it?

"Kiki!"

It's Issun! I feel a pang of longing before I quickly smother it. What does he want with me? Why does he want to keep me away from the beautiful light?

"I . . . I'm sorry, okay?"

. . . What?

"I-I didn't know . . . I didn't know anything . . . and I was wrong. I've been nothing but a selfish jerk, and I'm sorry. Just please . . . wake up. I . . . don't want you to die."

He's actually sorry? Oh, Issun . . . If only I could wake up . . .

I can hear the tears in his voice as he says, "Please, Kiki . . . Please don't die! I . . . I love you."

There are those three words again. How many times have I heard those words coming from his mouth? Several times, but not once did he mean it. But this time . . . this time's different. I can tell that his words are from the bottom of his heart; I can hear the sincerity in his voice.

He really _does_ love me.

I want to come back now. I want to wake up and see his face again. But I can't. The tranquil world of black I'm in is now a prison, keeping me from the man I love. I want to wake up.

But I can't. Will I be trapped in this darkness for eternity, forever wandering in nothingness?

Issun . . . He's crying now. He thinks I'm dead. But I'm not.

I'm not dead. Not yet. So why can't I get free from this nightmare world?

"Kiki . . ." I hear him say. "Ki . . . Kiyoko!"

What's this? There's been a shift in this dream world I'm trapped in. It feels . . . different. I realize that my world is no longer silent, no longer numb and unfeeling. I can hear the whirs and beeps of various machines, and I'm aware of the feeling of someone holding my hand.

It was him. Issun. He saved me from the dark. He called my name, and I was pulled from the darkness.

I want to open my eyes, but I'm so weak . . . and I'm starting to feel the pain I've learned to associate with living; I don't think I can do it.

But I must.

I have to open my eyes. I need to show Issun that I'm still alive. I focus all my power on opening my eyes, gathering what little strength I have.

Just when I start to think I can't do it, my eyes finally cooperate. The sudden, intense light I'm bombarded with upon opening them blinds me. My eyes adjust, and I gradually become more aware of my surroundings.

I'm in a hospital room. That much I know. And Issun is here, holding my hand tightly.

Speak. I have to speak. He hasn't noticed yet that I've opened my eyes; I have to get his attention.

"I . . . Is . . . sun . . . Issun . . ." I manage to say, barely able to get my voice above a whisper.

"K-Kiki?" Issun looks at me, his forest green eyes sparkling.

"Yeah . . . It's me."

It hurts. It hurts so much to speak, and it hurts even more to keep living, but I have to. For Issun's sake. I use the last of my strength to put a smile on my face. I'm so happy to see him.

"M-My God . . . You—You're okay . . ." Issun says, a fresh wave of tears spilling down his face.

I cough out a tiny laugh. "Hey, I'm not dead yet . . . Stop crying, okay? You know I don't like to see you cry."

"Yeah . . . Y-You're right," he says, wiping away his tears. "I'm just glad that you're okay. But, well . . . What I've done is unforgivable . . . But can you forgive me anyway?"

"I . . . unh . . ." I'm finding it hard to complete my thoughts. The pain . . . It's making it so hard to do anything. But I at least have to get this out. "I do forgive you, Issun. For everything you did." There. I've said it. Pain pounds itself through my skull, making it impossible to do or say anything more.

"You really forgive me . . . ? That easily? Why?"

I can't answer; his words barely register in my brain through the pain. I have to focus on the painful task of breathing. In . . . Out . . . In . . . Out . . .

"Hey? Kiki, you okay?"

In . . . Out . . . In . . .

My breath catches in my throat, causing me to cough. One cough leads to another, and suddenly I'm in a fit of coughing. It hurts me even more, each cough scraping against my ribs and grating my throat. By the time the fit passes, my head's pounding even worse than before, my entire body aches, and my heart's beating painfully fast.

Breathe. Keep breathing. In . . . Out . . . I force air to wheeze in and out of my protesting lungs. In . . . Out . . . In . . . Out . . .

I'm only vaguely aware of Issun being shooed out of the room. I think the nurse puts some more of that painkiller stuff into me, because even now I can feel myself slipping out of reality.

Try as I might to fight it, I fall back into the frozen, silent world of darkness . . .

o~*~o

**Amaterasu**

As soon as school's over, I make my way to the hospital where Kiyoko's being held. I see the doctor and immediately ask him how Kiyoko's doing.

"She's . . . stable," he says, a bit uncertainly.

"And what does that mean?" I ask him.

"She keeps going between consciousness and unconsciousness. She wakes up, but then falls unconscious again. And when she is awake, she appears to be in a lot of pain. The good news is, her fever has broken, and her life is no longer in danger. In other words, she will not die. Not today."

I breathe a sigh of relief. So this little episode won't kill her. That's good. It's not good that she's in pain, but at least she'll survive. I still want to see her, though.

I walk down to where Kiyoko is, my footsteps echoing hollowly in the lonely hallway. I then catch sight of Issun stalking down the hall. I approach him, and I can see that he's none too happy. He looks tired and just plain miserable, and I can see he's been crying.

"What happened?" I ask him. I hate to pry, but I want to know. Why? Because, whether I like to admit it or not, he's my friend, and I'm worried about him.

He sighs before answering. "I went to see Kiki. She woke up, but the doc pushed me outta the room before she could say much."

The doctor did say she was in a lot of pain. I guess it'd better to let her rest, but . . .

I walk past him and into Kiyoko's room. Surprisingly, she's awake.

"Hey, Kiyoko," I say to her, kneeling beside her bed.

"Hey, Snowflake," she says, a weak smile on her face.

"You doing better?"

"Yeah. I'll live."

"You know, you've got the whole school worried about you." It's true—just about every student has become a wreck since she was carted away in the ambulance.

"Really? Well, you know what I say. Life . . ." she trails off, apparently unable to continue. She's looking like she's in pain.

Knowing I'll have to leave soon, I finished the sentence for her, " . . . is too short to worry. That's right. Now, you get some rest, okay?" She manages a small nod.

And now the nurse wants me to leave. I walk out the room without protest. I think about those words, the words Kiyoko always says in times of stress.

_Life is too short to worry._

She's entirely right when she says that. Life _is_ too short to worry. Hell, life is too short, _period_. Yes, it is much, much too short . . .

* * *

Okay, guys, if you don't want to review on my story, I'll give you something else to review about: my writing style. I know I've brought this up before, but I'd like to know - How would you describe it, exactly? Is is simple? Sophistacated? Constructive criticism welcome. And feel free to review on the story, too! I recommend that you do . . .


	5. Kiyoko's Song

_**Chapter 5: Kiyoko's Song**_

"_Can anyone else hear it? The sound of bells in the air . . ."_

Just a few days after the scare she gave us all, Kiyoko returns to school, peppy and cheerful as ever. She appears to be fine, but knowing the pain she had been in, I can't help being a little worried about her. I ask her how she's doing.

She blinds me with her brilliant smile, dazzling as ever. "Better. At least, better than I was before."

"And the pain?"

"The doctor's given me some more medicine for the pain. I'll be fine, Snowflake. So stop worrying so much."

_More medicine?_ That implies that she's already on medication. Just how much is she taking? Ugh, I'm going to kill myself with all this worrying. She's right; I do need to stop worrying. It's not good for me. Best to take my mind off the subject. "So . . . How's it going with you and Issun?" I've been wanting to know, and neither has had the nerve to tell me, which makes me even more curious.

I turn around to find that Kiyoko's up and disappeared on me. I happen to look up, and there she is, scaling the lockers for some crazy reason. "Uh . . . What exactly are you doing?" I ask her.

She silences me, suppressing a giggle. She's up to something, I can tell from that sneaky look in her eyes. But what?

Issun walks by, and Kiyoko leaps from her perch atop the lockers. "Ya-ha!" she cries as she falls right on top of him, knocking him to the ground.

"OW! What the hell, Kiki?" he complains.

She simply giggles in response. "Gotcha!" she says.

"Yeah, um . . . Can you get off me now?"

"Oh! Of course! And, Snowflake, to answer your question . . ." She pulls Issun to her and they kiss. ". . . We're doing just great. Did you know that Issun likes dancing almost as much as I do? We go dancing every other day, it seems!" She giggles and starts dancing right in the middle of the hall. And, much like I thought she would, she ends up having a crash collision with another student. "Whoops! Sorry!"

"Is she always like this?" Issun asks me, pulling me aside. As if he doesn't know!

We watch the person in question as she looks around in confusion. "Guys? Where'd you go?"

"Do I even need to say it?" I say as an answer to his question.

"No, I'm good. Hey, Kiki! Over here!" he calls to get Kiyoko's attention, startling her in the process. "I heard there's a party goin' on this weekend. You guys wanna come?"

"Yeah!" I say. I love a good party. "Kiyoko? What do you say?"

"That sounds awesome!" she says.

"Cool. See ya then!"

o~*~o

Kiyoko's come over to my place to try and find something to wear for the party, but she seems surprisingly reluctant. "Do we _have_ to wear dresses?" she asks, disdain clear on her face.

"Yes, you do," I answer. I do _not_ want Kiyoko to come to the party in jeans; she needs to have just a little more class. I pick out a lovely dress for her—strapless and, of course, purple. It looks like it would fit her perfectly, and it would suit her perfectly. But Kiyoko's still not too happy about being forced to wear a dress, so I have to practically wrestle her into it. But once I get her into the thing, I see I was right—it's just the right fit. The dress fits snugly to her body, showing off her petite physique. The hem falls just above her knees, allowing for freedom of movement. The bow that adorns the waist of the dress matches the ribbon in her hair. All in all, it's the perfect dress for her.

Kiyoko herself can't believe how perfect this dress is. She stares at her reflection, awestruck. "Wow," is all she can say.

"What'd I tell you? Now, let's do something with that hair of yours. You can't just keep it up in a ponytail all the time!" I let her hair down and, at her request, fixed the ribbon back in her hair, only in a more fashionable way. "Now for the shoes." She flat-out refuses to wear high heels, so I settle with letting her pick out a nice, if not tomboyish, pair of knee-high boots that match the dress.

"What about you, Snowflake?" Kiyoko asks me. "What're you going to wear?"

To be honest, I hadn't given it much thought. "Well, uh . . . I don't know." I really don't know what I could possibly do, particularly with my bland, lifeless hair.

"How about putting some ribbons in your hair?" Kiyoko suggests. "Maybe red . . . Yeah, red's a nice, bold color. It'd make you stand out more. And you can wear a simple black dress, to contrast with your white hair and skin."

I never expected tomboy Kiyoko to give me fashion advice. But still, that actually sounds pretty good. "Thanks," I say. I then tie some red ribbons in my hair and don a knee-length black dress with spaghetti straps. Throw in some hot-red stilettos, and the overall effect of the outfit is indeed striking. "Now we're ready to party!"

"Yeah!"

There's only one thing, though. "Um . . . where _is_ the party?"

"I . . . I don't know."

Shit. We forgot to ask where the damn party was. I guess we'll just have to find it on our own. "Get ready for a scavenger hunt, Kiyoko. We're going to go find it."

o~*~o

Thankfully, it doesn't take long to find it. As it turns out, the party is being held downtown in a club that I never even knew existed. It doesn't matter, anyway, because we found it! We both cheer and immediately join in on the fun.

Soon enough, Kiyoko becomes the life of the party, captivating the crowd with her impossibly awesome, yet graceful moves. Others dance alongside her, trying to mimic her moves, which they can't. No one can copy her unique style. She has a passion for dancing, and that passion shines through every time she steps on the dance floor.

After the song she'd been dancing to ends, she comes over to where I am on the sidelines, much to the disappointment of the crowd. "Having fun, Snowflake?" she asks.

"Totally. This party is awesome," I say. And it is. Everyone I know is here, and I'm having a blast, being able to socialize and catch up with everyone. Not only that, but I get to spend time with Waka, as well.

"Come dance with me?"

"Thanks, but no, thanks. It's fun to just watch you dancing out there."

"It'd be even more fun to dance with me!"

"Truth be told, I'd love to. But . . . my feet hurt so much . . . Why did I have to wear high heels?"

"That's what you get!"

She then gets back on the dance floor. She finds Issun and the two of them dance together, swaying to the gentle rhythm of a slow song, gazing into each other's eyes as lovers do. How sweet.

But wait . . . what's Issun up to? He's got that look in his eyes again . . .

What the—! That pervert went and flipped up Kiyoko's dress, revealing her panties for a brief moment. Oh, how embarrassing that must be! Yet somehow, she manages to keep it together until he leaves. Then she loses it. She lets out a high-pitched shriek of utter girlishness, causing Waka, who had the misfortune to be standing right next to her, to cringe. She probably just made the poor guy half-deaf. Heaven knows the whole club heard her.

"Eek! He saw, he saw, he saw!" she squeaks, blushing furiously.

"It's okay, Kiyoko. You know that—Eh?" Some guards materialize out of nowhere, and they don't look very happy. I think Kiyoko's scream may have caused some trouble.

"We're going to have to ask you to leave," one of the burly men says. Yep, it's Kiyoko they're after.

"What if I don't want to leave?" she replies, narrowing her eyes.

"Are we going to have to show you the door ourselves?" the guard growls.

"No, I can see it from here, thank you very much."

"That's it! We're kicking you out!"

"Then I'll kick myself back in! You won't get rid of me that easily!"

In an attempt to silence her, the guard gives her a smart whack upside the head. "Thank you, sir, can I have another?" she remarks, so as to say that it didn't hurt. She's got a pretty hard head, that girl. But the guard is getting fed up with her, so he hits her on the head again, harder this time. "Ow!" she yelps, clutching her probably now sore head. "I . . . I was being sarcastic . . ." She then starts crying, though I suspect that it's an act to try to guilt the guard into letting her stay. Well, there is no such luck. The guard, along with a couple others, drags Kiyoko out of the club, though she fights them every step of the way.

I take the liberty of following her out, dragging Waka and Issun out with me. "Kiyoko . . . If you can't stay, then none of us will," I say to her, silencing my more unwilling friends' protests with a warning glare. Suddenly, an idea pops into my head. "Hey, I know! Why don't we have a little party of our own, just the four of us!"

"That'd be awesome!" Kiyoko says. "We can have a bonfire and everything! And we can dance some more!" She then proceeds to start dancing again.

"Don't dance too much, now."

"Are you kidding me? I can keep dancing for—whoops!" She loses her balance and topples over. She laughs sheepishly. "Is this what they mean by 'dance until you drop'?"

I can't help but smile. "Not exactly."

We start up a fire, and Kiyoko suggests that we sing. I can't sing, and of course the guys don't want to, so we let her have the honor. "Really?" she says. "Okay, uh, this is just a little song I wrote . . ."

Her voice is amazingly clear and melodic as she starts to sing:

_You walk by me_

_You look at me_

_Your eyes meet mine_—here she looks into Issun's eyes.

_I'm mesmerized_

_I can no longer pretend_

_You are only a friend_

_But all along I knew_

_This love is true_

_If you had one day to live,_

_What would you do?_

_You know I would give_

_All my love to you_

_But it's too late now_

_Because my time is running out_

_You walk away_

_I say, 'Stay'_

_You look at me_

_And say you hate me_

_I know you don't mean it_

_You won't break my spirit_

_But please, don't do this to me_

_Oh, why can't you see . . . _

_I only have one day to live_

_And I don't know what to do_

_You know I would give _

_All my love to you_

_But it's too late now_

_Because my time is running out_

_Oh, the clock is counting down_

_Can you hear the sound?_

_I've made a mistake_

_I never thought I'd make_

_Everything to lose and nothing to gain_

_My heart just can't take the pain_

_This is my fault, my bad_

_But I can never take it back_

_And if you had one day to live,_

_What would you do?_

_You know I would give_

_All my love to you_

_But it's too late now_

_Because my time is running out_

_Because my time . . . is running out_

After she finishes the song, I see her stiffen, as if she hears something. "Kiyoko? What is it?" I ask her.

"Can anyone else hear it? The sound of bells in the air . . ."

o~*~o

When we return to school, things go on like usual. Today, we're talking about Kiyoko's coordination.

"How is it that you're so graceful on the dance floor, and you're so clumsy when you're not?" I ask her.

"What are you talking about?" she says. "I am _not_ clumsy!"

"Uh, Kiyoko—!" I try to warn her.

"What? Oof!" Too late. She walks right into the wall in front of her. Which brings us back to . . .

"Not clumsy, huh? You could have fooled me!"

She doesn't reply. She just stares dumbly at the imposing wall before her. "How'd that wall get there?"

Kiyoko never ceases to amaze me with her simplemindedness. "That wall's always been there, Kiyoko."

"Huh . . . I never noticed it before."

I roll my eyes. How could she not notice a wall that's right in front of her? Wait, what's going on over there? Looks like a fight. Oh, how I love a good fight now and then! Who's fighting this time? Hold on, is that . . . ? That's Issun! And he's fighting one of those football players—a senior, at that. I get Kiyoko's attention and point her at the scene unfolding. She gasps, horrified. "Issun! No!" she cries.

He's not doing so well. That senior is at least twice his size, and most likely three times stronger than him. Kiyoko flinches with each blow Issun gets hit with, as if she's the one fighting. "S . . . Stop it . . ." she whimpers, her voice barely audible.

The bully keeps on fighting. With each punch thrown, Kiyoko's anxiety grows visibly. "Stop it, stop it!" she says again, her voice louder than before.

Still she's left ignored. The fight goes on until she just snaps. "STOP IT!" she yells, halting all the students in their tracks.

The one that'd been fighting Issun finally turns his attention to Kiyoko. "Stop it, you say?" he sneers. "Make me, little freshman bitch!"

"Oh, I will." A rare flash of anger crosses her expression. He doesn't know it, but he's in for it now. It's quite a feat to make Kiyoko mad, but if you do . . . Watch out! As if to prove my point, Kiyoko punches the guy, knocking him down in spite of the fact that he's three times her size.

"That's how it's gonna be, huh? Take this!" He goes to punch her, but she easily blocks it with one hand. She then kicks him, throwing him back down on the ground. "Grr! That's it! No more Mr. Nice Guy!" He throws yet another punch. This one connects, sending Kiyoko staggering backwards. She recovers, and grabs hold of him in a headlock. With a mighty yell, she throws the guy at least five feet. He lands with a thud, and loses consciousness. Kiyoko is the winner.

But that doesn't matter much right now. Right now, I'm more concerned about Kiyoko's health. That fight must have been hard on her. I go over to where she stands.

"I . . . won," she panted, out of breath. She falls into my arms, and I hold her as she catches her breath. I'm just grateful she still has breath left to catch. I feel her racing heartbeat next to mine, and I count out each and every beat of her heart, fearful that each one may be the last. I feel rather than hear her ragged breath turn into quiet sobs.

"Kiyoko? What's the matter?" I ask.

"I . . . I went too far . . ."

"Too far . . . With what?"

"Everything!"

I'm still not sure exactly what she's talking about, but I have to calm her down. I don't want her running off when she's been through so much. "It's okay, Kiyoko. Everything's going to be okay . . ." But even as I say that, I wonder if things will ever be really okay . . .

* * *

There, another chappie done! And just so you know, I actually wrote the song myself. I know it's a bit long, but I did write it as a full-length song, so I hope you guys don't mind. And yes, Kiyoko really can kick butt when it comes right down to it. And here's some food for thought to get you guys reviewing some more: If YOU were the author of this story, what would you have happen next? It's your story, and anything can happen. Tell me, please! I crave your opinion like mice crave cheese! Mmm, cheese . . . Don't forget to review, okay? Just do it!


	6. Farewell

Hey, everyone! This is the last chapter, I am sad to report... But that's okay, 'cause I'll be writing more stories soon enough! Now, I would really appreciate some reviews. I put several hours of work into each chapter, and I would like some feedback. Thanks!_**

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Chapter 6: Farewell

_"I said you could break my heart, but not my spirit. Then you broke that, too . . . But it's okay, because I forgive you."_

**Kiyoko**

I sit waiting in a scene of utter tranquility—a serene lake, with beautifully vibrant wildflowers surrounding it that sway gently, waving to me, in the breeze. The sun can be seen easily from here; a great spot for watching sunsets. This is our spot. Mine and Issun's. I remember the first time we met here . . .

_It was a gorgeous day. The sun was shining, and there wasn't a cloud in the sky. That day, after school, I asked Issun to come along with me for a little hike, because I was feeling bold then and I wanted a little taste of adventure. But, of course, he was against the idea._

_"Why would you wanna do that?" he asked._

_"Come on! It'll be fun," I assured him. _

_"Yeah, right!"_

_"It will be! We won't go too far. Please?"_

_He thought about it for a moment. " . . . Okay," he said at last._

_I nearly jumped for joy. "Yay! Let's go!" I practically dragged him out of the schoolyard and into the woods nearby. So we wouldn't get completely lost, I made mental notes of certain landmarks, such as a stone entirely covered in moss marking the entrance._

_We explored those woods for a long time—hours, it seemed—without finding anything particularly interesting. I was about ready to leave when something finally caught my interest—a sudden break in the endless rows of trees. I went into the clearing, Issun following close on my heels. And there it was, that beautiful lake, its surface sparkling and shimmering like a mirage as it caught the sun's rays._

_"It's beautiful!" I gasped, unable to think of anything else to say at the time._

_"You said it," Issun agreed._

_We watched as the sun sank below the horizon, setting the sky on fire with its colors. The lake turned to fire, as well, as it reflected the sun's burning light, the fiery sunbeams dancing about the rippling waves. In a word, it was breathtaking. It was then that we made a promise to each other._

_"Issun," I said, "this place is so beautiful . . . We should come here everyday!"_

_"We should . . . Let's promise to meet each other here every single day after school. How 'bout it?"_

_I nodded. "Every day. I promise!"_

_"I promise, too . . ."_

We stayed true to that promise, meeting each other every day after school at what we came to call Sunset Lake. I remember how we'd dance together in the golden light of the blazing sunset, how we'd spend hours just looking into each others' eyes. Every single day, we met here, and every day, we'd grow closer. That is, until today . . .

Issun still hasn't come.

I'm sure he has a perfectly good reason. I mean, he must have gotten caught up in something so important that he couldn't get away. There's no way he could have forgotten . . .

But then again, I've misjudged him before.

No! I refuse to believe that! He's changed! He's not the same person that broke my heart so long ago. He wouldn't forget about me. Not in a million years. Never . . .

o~*~o

The sun's setting now. Up until now, since that day, Issun and I always watched that stunning sunset together. But now, the sun's falling and he's still not here. I'm alone.

He's done it again. He lied to me, and my heart's breaking all over again. Only this time, it's so much worse, for I can feel my own spirit, all that I am, starting to break. He's going to break me completely this time. He's going to break me so that I'll never be whole again. I wrap my arms tightly around myself, so that I might keep myself from breaking apart. The pain . . . It's too much to take anymore.

I just want it all to end. Right now. My whole body, not to mention my heart and spirit, hurts so much, it's unbearable. Please . . . Please! Just end it! End this hurtful thing called life! Someone! Anyone . . . Help . . . Help me . . . I'm . . . I'm on fire, I'm burning . . . ! Why . . . Why am I still living?

Why . . . did you have to do it, Issun?

Why . . . can't the pain just stop?

Why . . . can't I just die already?

The pain becomes too much for me, so I let the darkness of that dream world from before swallow me whole and erase my pain . . .

o~*~o

**Amaterasu**

This is strange. Kiyoko's disappeared all of a sudden. She almost always comes over to my house after school to hang out with me, but today she's nowhere to be found. I even went to her house to check if she's there—but she's not. Where could she be?

Well, I know that she and Issun always went into those woods behind the school every day after school, doing who knows what. Maybe she's there.

I go to said woods and search high and low for any sign of Kiyoko. Thankfully, it doesn't take long before something catches my eye—a gap between the trees. I walk through that gap and come across a hidden lake. Is this where Issun and Kiyoko disappeared to all the time?

Yes, I'm sure. There's Kiyoko right there, lying on the ground in a defeated, broken position. Has that bastard Issun broken her heart _again_? I approach her, hoping to give her some comfort.

"Kiyoko?" I start out gently, trying to be careful so as to not upset her further. "What's wrong?"

She doesn't answer; she hardly even notices me, she's so upset.

"Please tell me what's wrong," I plead with her. I hate to pry, but I can't help her if I don't know what's wrong.

"Go away," comes her feeble, angry reply. Oh, why won't she talk? Wait, might she be confusing me for Issun? As far as she knows, he's the only other one who knows of this place. It's not that farfetched; in the state of mind she's probably in right now, it's entirely possible.

"Hey, it's me. Snowflake. I just want to help you."

"Snowflake?" Okay, she knows it's me now. Yet, she's still not looking at me . . .

"Kiyoko, would you please look at me? I'd like to see those pretty eyes of yours again. Come on, just open your eyes. For me?"

She shakes her head defiantly. "No. Just leave me alone. Just let me die . . ."

What is this? She wants to die? Well, I won't let that happen. And I don't really know why, but I just have a feeling that this isn't what she really wants. "You want to die? Really? Is that what you really want? To throw your life away just like that?"

"Yes. I . . . I can't take it anymore. It hurts too much. It hurts too much to live anymore . . ."

My mind believes her, but my heart still protests the notion that Kiyoko truly wants to die. "Is that what you really want?" I repeat the question. If she wants to die, she'll stay true to that until the end. But if somewhere deep inside her heart, she doesn't want to die, she'll begin to doubt herself.

"YES! I told you that already! Just LET ME DIE!" she shouts, her voice rising. She's still saying that, but I still can't believe it quite yet. I suspect that she's becoming defensive, a sign that she's starting to have her doubts. There's still hope.

"_Do you really want to die, Kiyoko?_" I ask one last time, my own voice gaining an edge. I emphasize each of my words in hopes that they will finally reach her.

"I . . . I don't know anymore," she finally admits. Then she pauses, thinking about it some more. Her voice has quieted and is trembling as she says, "I . . . never wanted to die. I want to . . . I want to live!" Her voice cracks and tears slip out from under her closed eyelids. "I want to live! But I can't! I never had the choice! And I never will . . ." She breaks down completely, sobs racking her entire body.

I take her into my arms. "It's going to be okay, Kiyoko. Everything's going to be all right." I notice that the sun's setting. It's a beautiful scene, with the sun painting both the sky and the lake with its colors, dying them in shades of crimson and gold. Kiyoko wouldn't want to miss this. I decide to try and get her to open her eyes one more time. "Now, open your eyes, just for a little bit. I think you want to see this."

"Huh?" Curious and perhaps finally trusting me again, Kiyoko opens her eyes.

o~*~o

**Kiyoko**

At first, after having spent so much time with my eyes shielding me from the light and pain of the world, the bright light blinds me. But when my eyes adjust, the first thing I see is that gorgeous sunset, the very one that Issun and I would always watch together. Only now it's Snowflake, not Issun, watching it with me. But I don't mind. After all, the sunset is still its beautiful self, no matter who I watch it with. So we look on as the sun sinks below the horizon, once again setting the sky and lake on fire. Fire . . .

The burning sun . . . I feel it ignite something in me, something I didn't even realize I'd lost—hope. The flaming sunset has lit the light of hope in me once more. I feel as if I can take on the world now. As if I can even take on the pain of living.

"Thank you, Snowflake," I say to her. If it wasn't for her, I'd probably be long gone.

She smiles at me. "You're welcome. Now . . . Can we go back? I'm not really an outdoorsy kind of girl . . ."

I smile back. "Of course we can."

o~*~o

The next day when I go to school, that fire of hope still burns brightly within me. And I think I can even take seeing the guy that had the nerve to break my heart not once, but twice. But then I actually see him. The minute he comes into my sights, I feel myself starting to fall apart all over again. I keep telling myself to keep it together, but it seems impossible when he's right there, standing in front of me. But I can't lose myself to my dream world of darkness. Not just yet. So I grab onto something, anything that's real, to remind me to keep a hold on reality. It just happens to be Issun's shirt, but that doesn't matter. It's something real; I can touch it, I can feel it. Reality.

"What's up with you, Kiki?" Issun asks, looking at me strangely. As if he doesn't know! He's so ignorant! That makes me so angry!

"You know very well what's up! You lied to me! Again! How could you!" I shout at him. But then, just like that, my fickle anger seeps out of me. My strength vanishes all at once, and my legs give out beneath me, though I still cling to Issun for the sake of my sanity. "You . . . You promised . . ."

"What are you talking a—Oh!" he exclaims, as if he suddenly remembers. So he _did_ forget about me. "Kiki, I-I'm so sorry! I can explain! You see—"

"NO!" I cut him off, my anger flaring up once again. "I don't want to hear any more of your stupid lies!" How can I ever believe another word that comes out of his lying mouth?

"K-Kiki, I . . . I never meant to break our promise. Please, you have to believe me!"

Lies. He's lying again. That's all he ever does. I know that now. I don't want to hear another word from him. "SHUT UP! JUST SHUT UP! I've had enough of your lying and your breaking promises!" The anger I'd worked up is gone again. Why can't I stay angry for more than five seconds? " . . . Forget it. Just forget it. Goodbye." I gather up the strength to rise and walk away.

"Kiki, wait!" He grabs my arm to try and stop me from leaving.

I manage to scrape up one last bit of anger. "Don't touch me," I say, yanking my arm out of his filthy hand. "I never want to see you again."

o~*~o

**Amaterasu**

What in the world is going on? I thought Kiyoko was fine, but then she nearly has a nervous breakdown in the middle of the school hallway! And even now, a week after that happened, she's still acting awfully cold towards Issun. Just what did he do this time? It must have been something horrible, if it made even Kiyoko resort to holding a grudge against him. I mean, Kiyoko _never_ holds grudges—she's always been a very carefree and forgiving person. It just doesn't make sense . . .

I'm thinking this over when I notice that Kiyoko's not in school today. Where has she gone now? No, it can't be . . . That'd tear me apart if that happened. But I have to know.

After school, I phone Kiyoko's house. Kiyoko's mom, Kushi, picks up. "Hello?" she says, her voice like the cheerful melody of a songbird.

"Hello, this is Amaterasu," I say. "Kiyoko's friend. She refers to me as 'Snowflake.'"

"Oh, Snowflake! I've heard a lot about you!"

"Um, I was wondering . . . How's Kiyoko doing?"

There's a pause on the other end. I hear her voice is tinged with sadness as she says, "Well . . . uh . . . About that . . ."

Panic begins to set deep in my bones. "What happened?"

"She's . . . Kiyoko is . . . in the hospital again."

Oh, no. She's collapsed again, I just know it. "How's she doing?"

There are tears in the kind woman's voice now as she says, "N-Not too well . . ."

" . . . Okay. That's all I needed to know. Thank you." I hang up the phone. I've heard enough. Kiyoko needs me. I set out for the hospital immediately.

o~*~o

Arriving at the hospital, I look around for the room that Kiyoko's being kept in. I'm walking down the hall when I hear the most bloodcurdling scream. I stop in my tracks, fear taking hold of my heart. I run towards the source of the terrible sound. I have to know whose scream that was, because it sounded awfully familiar . . .

I hear that horrible scream again, louder than before, pierce through the quiet halls. I'm directly in front of the room where it came from. I look in, and terror freezes me in place. It's Kiyoko.

She's in worse shape than I thought. She writhes against the doctor's firm grip, screaming and crying. She begs the doctor to end it, make it stop. She calms down only when the nurse gives her a shot of strong painkillers that numb her apparent agony.

Has she been suffering this much all along? How could I not have known? I find renewed awe at her incredible strength. She must have been strong to be able to put up with that much pain. No, she still _is_ strong. She can make it through this . . . I think.

I enter the room when the doctor finally lets me in. I'm surprised when I see Waka and Issun right behind me. I guess I hadn't noticed them. Kiyoko, though made dazed and sleepy by the painkillers, greets us with a smile. "Hey, guys," she says, her voice so much quieter than it normally is.

"Hey, Kiyoko," I say. "So, when you getting outta here?" I keep my tone light, but I'm desperately hoping she says soon.

"I'm sorry . . . I'm afraid . . . I'm not getting out of here anytime soon. Actually . . . I don't think I'm ever getting out. Not this time."

Not getting out? She can't mean . . . No! "Why not?" She can't die! Not yet!

"I just . . . don't have the strength . . . to keep on living."

So this is it? This is how it's going to end? "Can't you find just a little more strength?" I don't want her to leave. Not this soon.

"I'm sorry . . . It's just the way . . . things were meant to be."

"No!" Waka suddenly snaps. "This is _not_ the way things were meant to be! No one is ever meant to die young, especially not you! You . . . You deserve so much more. You don't deserve to have your life cut short like this. Why . . . Why does it have to be this way? You should be able to live out your life! You should have the right to your own future! It . . . just isn't fair," he concludes, tears glistening in his sea-blue eyes.

Kiyoko just smiles at him some more. "Thanks for saying that. It . . . means a lot to me. But life isn't fair. That's just the way . . . things work out sometimes."

"Speaking of which . . ." Issun cuts in. "Do you think we could ever work things out between us?" His question is met with silence. "C'mon, Kiki . . . I never meant to break our promise. Honestly, I didn't. I just . . . I had something I had to do that day, and I couldn't get away."

"And just what was it that you had to do that was so important that you had to break that promise, huh?" I demand. That promise was everything to Kiyoko. What could have possibly been more important than that?

"I, uh . . . I-I was at . . ." He pauses, probably choosing his next words carefully. Then, with a sigh, he says, "I . . . was at my parents' funeral."

I gasp. "Oh, Issun . . ." I had no idea.

Kiyoko looks shocked, as well. "I-I'm so sorry. I didn't know. But, still . . . I said you could break my heart, but never my spirit. Then you broke that, too . . ." But just as I think that she's not going to forgive him, Kiyoko's smile finally returns. "But it's okay, because I forgive you."

"What? R-Really?"

"Really. I'll always forgive you because I'll always love you, no matter what you've done."

"Kiki . . . I-I'll always love you, too . . ." He takes Kiyoko's hand in his, holding it tightly. "I'll always love you . . . Please don't go, Kiki!" He grips Kiyoko's hand even tighter, tears trailing down his face.

"Snowflake . . . I haven't forgotten about you," Kiyoko says, her amethyst eyes focusing on me. "I haven't known you that long, but . . . you're the best-est friend a girl could have. Thank you."

"No . . . thank _you_," I say. "You've done so much for me . . . You've done so much for everyone. We're going to miss you . . ." I can't say anymore, as I've become choked with tears. I honestly can't remember what life was like before funny, kind, beautiful Kiyoko became a part of it. Now it looks like I'm going to find that out soon.

"Guys . . . I have . . . just one more thing . . . to say," Kiyoko says, her voice even softer than it was, likely strained from the effort it must take for her to speak. We all listen intently. "Please . . . Don't worry . . . about me. Life . . . is too . . . short to . . . worry." Her eyes, those two priceless jewels, gently ease themselves closed. She draws in one final breath and, blessing us with one last sweet smile, dies before our eyes.

The sustained beep of the heart monitor flatlining, the symbol of Kiyoko's now still heart, drones on into the silence.

Gathering up what little composure I have, I say to her departing spirit, "Rest in peace, Kiyoko. And . . . Happy Sweet 16."

~The End~

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For the sake of those readers who may not be American, "Sweet 16" is one's 16th birthday. Anyway, that is the end. Sad, isn't it? Tell me what you think! Please!

Kiyoko: Yeah! Please review!

Me: O.O Kiyoko? How'd you...

Kiyoko: It's just a story, silly! ^^ Soo, if anyone wants me to be in another story, raise your hand! ...Is anyone raising their hand? Oh, well, just give DayDreamer95 the word and she'll do it! And I'll give you cookies if you review, too! Bye! ^^

Me: ...What she said.


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